TwentyFive Scenes In Which Harry Potter Dies
by Tree Climber
Summary: Hermione gets angry, Harry gets sat on, and Snape gets even. These are just three selected ways in which Harry Potter is fated to die in this collection of short scenes in all of which Harry Potter meets his downfall!
1. In Which Hermione Gets Angry

Author's Note: I am well aware that Author's Notes are somewhat annoying, but I felt that I should at least note that this particular story was begun over three years ago, so many of the scenes that were canon-based when they were written are now AU. Also, the existing parts of this story have undergone no less than three revisions, and the story has still to be completed. Please be patient while I revise, update, and finish! Enjoy!

Tree Climber

Ron Weasley ran silently down the hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, heart pounding. To be caught was to be dead. Finally, panting, Ron saw a figure crouched in the doorway leading to Dungeon #3.

"I found you!" Ron whispered, relief filling his mind. Harry sat with his legs pulled close to his chest. He lifted his chin and rested it on his knees, staring bleakly at Ron's legs. "Harry, come on! Voldemort's taken the Great Hall!" Ron panicked at seeing his friend so hopeless.

"It doesn't matter," Harry muttered, his eyes gleaming with unspilled tears. Ron stood, horrified, in front of Harry.

"It matters, Harry! We'll all die without you!" Ron's voice rose with anxiety.

"Yeah, and no pressure, right?" Harry jumped to his feet, glaring at Ron. "I'm not going. It's not worth failing."

"I didn't mean that!"

"You always mean that!" Harry's eyes blazed. "It's always 'Harry will save us!' He's not afraid of anything! Well, I have news for you: if I go up there, Voldemort will kill me! Oh, stop cringing, Ron!" Harry stalked away down the corridor, calling over his shoulder, "Get another hero!" Ron stood there, paralyzed until Hermione skidded down the hall.

"Where's Harry?" she asked breathlessly, breaking into Ron's reverie.

"He- he left," Ron said lamely.

"He was here, and you let him _go?_" Hermione all but shrieked. "People are dying up there! Does he not understand?"

"Hermione," Ron turned to her. "I think he's scared." It was the one thing that the two of them had never imagined Harry being. Angry, yes, God knows, they'd seen that. Sad, yes, he led a sad life. But afraid? Never. They were silent for a moment, giving silent sympathy to Harry.

"Hermione, what are we going to do now?" Ron asked. He had been relying on Harry to save them. Now, Harry was gone, probably lost in the maze of dungeons. Ron looked at Hermione. She had a determined gleam in her eye.

"We're going to kill Voldemort, Ron."

"_No! _It's suicide! I'm not going to do it, and you aren't either!"

"Don't try to stop me. Someone has to kill Voldemort," Hermione told him as she brushed past him to walked resolutely up the stairs. "And stop cringing!"

Harry blocked her path.

"You're not going." He told her firmly.

"Who says I'm not going? You? You won't even go to save your friends! You can't stop me." Hermione's lip quivered, as if she might cry, but no tears streamed down her cheeks. "I need your wand." None too gently, she pulled his wand out of Harry's back pocket as she pushed her way past him and made her way up the stairs. Her last image of Harry was his expression, like he had been slapped. She knew by Ron's outburst that he had gone again.

It was little trouble for Hermione to reach the Great Hall. No one was going to stop her; everyone knew that Voldemort would eventually kill anyone there. The hard part came after entering through the small side door. Hermione gulped, standing at the edge of a battlefield. Holding Harry's wand, she plunged into the midst of the fighting.

It was only luck that saved Hermione from being blasted to bits by ricocheting spells. In the end, however, she managed to take cover behind the Ravenclaw table. She crouched behind it, breathing hard. Hermione saw McGonagall dueling with Lucius Malfoy. Hermione tried to scream, to help as her professor fought and died.

Boiling anger replaced her fear. How dare Voldemort invade her home like this? How _dare _he? How dare he kill these people that she knew and loved, how dare he take them away from her?

Hermione saw Voldemort close by, dueling with Dumbledore. _It's too dangerous, you might hit Dumbledore! _her senses all screamed. But Hermione carefully pointed Harry's wand at Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra!" she tried to scream. Her tongue stumbled over the words, and they didn't come out of her mouth. She had never uttered these syllables before. Swallowing, Hermione tried again. "Avada Kedavra!" she said, pushing each sound out. She wasn't the only one to say it. There was a blinding green flash, and Voldemort fell. At the same moment, Hermione was pushed over by someone hurtling into her. When she sat up, Harry was sitting on top of her, looking sheepish.

"There were so many things that could have gone wrong. I was trying to stop you." he offered in way of explanation.

By that time, Voldemort's followers had realized that their Lord had fallen. Many were surrendering, and some were slinking off into the shadows, never to be seen again. People on Dumbledore's side were pointing at Harry and Hermione. "Before we explain this," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear. "I have to tell you that it was Ron who convinced me to come. Some Death Eaters got him on the way here."

Harry kissed her quickly, but softly on the lips before getting up. He put a hand out to help Hermione up. She took it, dazed.

More people had seen the two teenagers then, and a chant went up. "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Harry waved.

"Thank you," he said, pulling Hermione close to him. She sagged against him, and he looked startled. Harry started to lead Hermione away, to go somewhere quiet, but Hermione stood up again.

"No! Stop it! You…coward, hiding down in the dungeons while everyone here was fighting! You didn't kill Voldemort!" she said, furious.

"Hermione, you've been through a lot, come lie down," Harry replied. He didn't expect Hermione's response. She swooped down to the floor and picked up Harry's wand. In one swift move, she pointed the end at Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!" There was a green flash, and Harry was dead. A hush fell over the crowd, then all hell broke loose. Their hero had been killed.


	2. In Which Harry Walks Into A Trap

Scene 2: In Which Harry Walks Into a Trap

It was the end of a long, particularly grueling day of preparing for the N.E.W.T. level exams, enduring Hermione's niggling and nagging, and losing the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin. Both Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were in dreadful tempers.

"What would Fred and George say if they could see _this _loss?" Ron moaned, throwing himself, wet Quidditch robes and all, onto the red and gold couch in the Gryffindor common room.

"They'd probably be too embarrassed to talk to us. They might even disown you," Harry said glumly.

"Oh, stop it, you two!" Hermione interjected. "It's just Quidditch!"

Ron and Harry both snapped at Hermione simultaneously. "It's not just about _Quidditch!_"

"Oh? Then what is it about?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm?" The two boys looked at each other darkly.

"It's about beating Malfoy," Harry said finally.

"Yeah, have you noticed that the Slytherins have started singing "Weasley is Our King" again?" Ron said.

"Oh, you two are so childish sometimes!" Hermione said, turning her attention back to _Advanced Arithmancy _by Smarta Thanu. Harry and Ron just rolled their eyes and turned their conversation to Malfoy.

"He's such a…"

"Ferret?" Harry supplied. A grin crossed Ron's face.

"Yeah, that was great, wasn't Harry? Hey, wouldn't it be fun if we could kill Malfoy?" Ron said dreamily.

Harry agreed. "We could trick Crabbe and Goyle into giving us the password to the Slytherin dormitories, then we could sneak in and stab Malfoy to death. It wouldn't be _that _hard."

"Maybe we could slip poison in his pumpkin juice at dinner. Dobby would wet himself with excitement about helping you," Ron said.

"Or we could kidnap him, drag him to my aunt and uncle's house and have Dudley sit on him!" Harry and Ron were laughing hysterically at themselves at this point, and were still only half-joking.

Hermione slammed her book shut. "Honestly! You just can't shut up and let a girl study in peace, can you?"

"We'll shut up if you help us murder Malfoy," Ron offered, trying to contain his glee and failing miserably. Hermione stood up suddenly.

"Well, if that's what it takes…" she said irritably, crossing over to the portrait hole. Ron and Harry exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed Hermione out of the common room.

"Where are we going?" Ron ventured to ask.

"To Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione snapped. "And don't ask questions."

Harry noticed that Hermione was beginning to sound a bit like his aunt and uncle, but he kept his mouth shut as he didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Hermione's lectures.

When they had finished making the Polyjuice Potion in their second year, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had carefully stored their cauldron and a small stock of ingredients in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Breathing a sigh of relief that Myrtle was nowhere to be seen, Ron and Harry looked expectantly at Hermione. "Ron, I need to make a Dissolving Potion. Can you get me the ingredients?" As Ron scurried off to do Hermione's bidding, she turned to Harry. "Harry, I need you to go back up to the tower and ask Dean Thomas if you can borrow the bowling ball and pins that he got for Christmas."

"But Hermione, we were just up there!" Harry protested.

"Well, I wouldn't be down here doing this if it weren't for you, would I? If you want Malfoy dead, you can go get that bowling ball!" Hermione's eyes were blazing, and Harry could see that she was close to throwing a fit.

"Alright, I'm going," Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender.

As Harry exited, Hermione found herself tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for Ron. "Ron! What in bloody hell are you doing over there? A Dissolving Potion is really basic; you only need a couple of ingredients!"

"But I don't know _which _of those ingredients you need!" Ron called from the small cupboard under the sink, where they had hidden their stash of potion ingredients.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, how thick can you be?" Hermione marched over to push Ron aside and rummage in the cupboard herself. "Make yourself useful, why don't you?" she said. "Go to the kitchen and ask for the largest knife you can find."

Ron snorted. "Sure, if I'm not too thick to find the way," he said sarcastically.

The next day ("The Dissolving Potion needs to simmer for twelve hours, Ron, we _can't _do it now. Besides, it's midnight; Malfoy's not going to be wandering the halls at this time!" Hermione had said.), the trio found themselves in the hallway where Malfoy and his cronies were most likely to be found: the dungeon floor. They had set their trap, and settled down just around the corner to wait for an unsuspecting Malfoy to walk through. And they waited. And they waited. And Malfoy didn't come.

Harry stood up and stretched. "I'm going to get _Quidditch Through the Ages_," he said. "I'll be back soon."

"Can you get _Advanced Arithmancy_ for me, while you're up there?" Hermione requested.

"Sure," Harry said, and set off, ambling up the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione called after him, "Remember, Harry! Take the door on the right when you come back!"

Harry still hadn't returned when Ron and Hermione heard footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"It must be Malfoy!" Ron whispered joyfully. "Pull the rope…now!" And Hermione gave an enormous tug to the rope which she held in her hands. It pulled down a ramp, which set the bowling ball in motion to knock the bowling pins over the edge of the shelf that they rested precariously on. The pins knocked over the potion-proof cauldron of Dissolving Potion, which dissolved the rope that held a large cleaver.

Harry stood in front of two identical doors. He vaguely remember Hermione shouting at him which one to take, but the memory was floating somewhere in the back of his mind where he couldn't quite catch it…_Right, _Harry though. _Right, right! _And he walked through the door on his left.

He knew something wasn't quite right. _Am I lost? _he wondered. A sudden noise from above made him look up just in time to see the knife dropping down on him from above. He had walked into his own trap.

Hermione looked horror-stricken at Harry Potter's body, cut cleanly in half and spurting blood all over. She leaned down to pick up a ripped and soaking object on the floor. "My book," she whimpered. "It's _ruined!_"


	3. In Which Harry Is Sat On

25 Short Scenes In Which Harry Potter Dies

Scene 3- In Which Harry Is Sat On

"Wake up!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice tore through Harry's dream. It had been a pleasant dream, about three squirrels who traveled around the world wearing large, pink hats and having adventures. Harry reckoned the dream had come from the squirrels he had chased from the garden yesterday (on Aunt Petunia's orders) and the magenta baby bonnet he had found while cleaning out the closet (also on Aunt Petunia's orders).

Harry groaned, and rolled himself out of bed. Sleeping was hard to do when Aunt Petunia was screaming in your ear.

"I'm coming!" Harry called back. Eyes barely open, Harry reached for his glasses. He was about to put them on when he heard a thud against the window sill. Shoving his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, Harry came face to face with Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon. "Oh, it's you, is it?" Harry muttered to the excited creature. "Have you seen Hedwig?" Hedwig had been gone all night, and Harry had left the window open for her. Pigwidgeon nipped at Harry's fingers. Harry glanced at the letter tied to Pig's leg, staring a moment before remembering to untie it. Pig obligingly stuck his leg out and promptly fell over. Harry took the letter, an amused expression on his face. The letter read:

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday! I'd have sent your gift along with Pig, but he's too small to carry it. So I thought maybe I could Apparate to your room later on and give it to you? Now that I can legally Apparate and all. When are you going to take your test, anyway? The sooner you can do it, the sooner you can Apparate away from the Muggles! And it could come in handy in case Dudley ever tried to sit on you. Unless he's lost some weight?_

_Best birthday wishes,_

_Ron_

_P.S. Be careful where Dudley sits!_

Harry smiled. He sat down at the tiny desk next to his bed. Opening a concealed drawer, he pulled out a piece of parchment and started his reply.

_Dear Ron,_

_Maybe you shouldn't Apparate in my room. Can you meet me in the alley just off Privet Drive tonight at sunset? It would be great to see you _– at this point, Aunt Petunia shrieked from the bottom of the stairs, "Get down here, Harry, and sweep the kitchen! Dudley spilled the cereal!" Harry looked up for a moment before hurriedly finishing the letter.

_I really have to go, Ron, but I'll see you tonight if you can make it! _

_Harry._

Harry tied this letter to Pig's leg. The instant it was done, Pig took off, narrowly missing the edge of the window on his way out. Harry stood watching Pig fly off for a moment or two, then jumped into action. He thundered down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing the broom from the cupboard under the stairs on his way.

"I'm here, Aunt Petunia," he said.

Aunt Petunia eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "You haven't be doing…you know…have you?"

"What?" Harry asked. "Magic?"

Dudley waddled into the kitchen while Aunt Petunia was screeching at Harry for using the "m-word," and proceeded to fill his arms with food: cream puffs, potato crisps, three slices of leftover pizza, treacle tart, and more. This, he took to the counter to lay out in an appetizing fashion and, item by item, devour.

Petunia took a deep breath and ended her tirade. Shoving the broom into Harry's hands (it had fallen to the floor in the quarrel), she turned to walk out of the room. "Just sweep the cereal up," she snapped. To Dudley, she added, "Eat that at the table, sweetums."

Harry, who had sunk down in a chair at the table, saw Dudley coming. "No! Dudley, you fat oaf, watch out!" It happened, of course, that Dudley wasn't listening to Harry but instead was straining to hear the faint knock on the door: Piers, Dudley's friend and partner-in-crime, was due to arrive any second.

Harry tried to dive off the seat, but it was too late; he was surrounded on three sides by Dudley's flab, and the chair back obstructed his getaway route on the other side. "NOOOO—" The cry was cut off at Dudleysat his very large, very heavybehind right on top of Harry.

Hours later, Ron Weasley waited just outside Number 4, Privet Drive, but Harry never showed up. Venturing inside the now-empty house, Ron came upon the splattered remains of one late Harry Potter.

"I told you, mate," Ron said, shaking his head sorrowfully upon recognizing the shattered glasses frames that were partially buried in the mess, "You should have taken that test."


	4. In Which Harry Is Strangled

Scene 4: In Which Harry is Strangled

Sixth-year Ginny Weasley skipped along the border of the Forbidden Forest, though she didn't step into it. That would be against the rules, and Ginny was a girl who never broke the rules. But dancing dangerously close to the edge-- ah, that was a different thing altogether.

"I love you, Harry Potter," she whispered, even though she knew that Harry couldn't hear her. "I love you." She'd been in awe of him before she had even set eyes on him. He had always been the great Harry Potter, the strong heroic figure that she'd read about in books. Yet he had only been a baby when he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; she'd told herself that time and time again. Probably, he wasn't very brave or courageous or clever. Probably, he'd just been lucky. And then she had met him. He had had the most beautiful eyes, green and deep; they were the eyes of a hero. Ron had come home from school that year raving about how Harry had defeated You-Know-Who once more, and the intensity of Ginny's longing to know him had grown. The next year had been Ginny's first year at Hogwarts. It had been then that she had unwittingly come under the influence of Voldemort. Harry had saved her from the Chamber of Secrets, and she had fallen in love.

"Love me, Harry," the words rang clearly through the crisp autumn air. There was no one that Ginny could see, and from where she stood, her view included all of the Hogwarts grounds between the forest and the castle that sat majestically atop the rolling hill. "Find me, Harry". _He won't, _the wind whistled. Everyday, the wind said this. Everyday, the wind crushed Ginny's dreams.

Sure, Ginny had dated others. Some Slytherins, snickering behind her back, even dared to call her promiscuous. But she had never loved anyone the way she did Harry. None of them had had that "hero" aura around them. They had all fallen at one time or another, and Ginny had simply kept on going.

"Why do I need him?" she asked. She knew the wind's answer. _You don't. You're stronger than that. _

"I'm not," she sighed. Opening her arms to embrace that which could not be held, Ginny lifted her face to kiss the wind. "I can't even take that step into the Forest." _I know, _her invisible lover whispered. That was the reason she stood here, day after day, waiting on the edge of something bigger than the forest.

Ginny left the arms of the wind and walked deliberately to the very first tree of the forest. She stuck her foot out, as if to walk forward but found she could not. "I can't." _Try it again, _the wind encouraged.

"I _can't!_" Ginny cried. "If he were here, I could. I know I could." _If he was gone,_

_could you do it? _The wind asked. _If he couldn't come to you, would you step in the forest? _

"Why would I want him gone?" Ginny asked furiously, turning her gaze all around, but finding nowhere to direct her anger. _For all those times he spurned your love, for all those times he laughed your glances off- for all those other girls he flaunted right in front of your face, never thinking about what he was doing to you. _

"But--," _Kill him, love! You'll never have him, anyway. _Ginny wanted to yell, to scream in anger, but the wind sent a little breeze to spread its fingers over her mouth. _I just want you to be happy. _

Ginny nodded slowly. "I want to be happy, too," she said. She could see the leaves on the huge oak tree nodding at her, at the bidding of the wind. "Kill him."

The wind whispered its approval. _He'll be here soon, won't he? _

"Yes," Ginny agreed hoarsely. "He'll visit Hagrid soon." She tested herself again, willing herself to step into the forest. She couldn't.

It was the wind that noticed Harry first. It hailed her with gusts of wind, stopping her as she tried to crawl to the forest, to put even a finger in. When Ginny looked up, Harry was already down the hill and walking towards Hagrid's hut. But he didn't stop there, and Ginny knew he had seen her. Coming to find her at Ron's request? To reprimand her for skipping at Quidditch practice yet again? They would have noticed she was gone.

"Ginny," he said, beginning to jog the rest of the short distance between them.

Then Ginny did something as surprising to her as it was to him. She threw her arms around Harry and kissed him.

Her arms tightened around his throat, and as she deepened the kiss, Harry gasped for air. Ginny stood on her tiptoes to reach her arms as far as they could go around Harry. She didn't know how long she stood there, but it took some time, even with the wind's help. She dropped his limp body eventually, and, a triumphant smile playing over her lips, turned and walked into the Forbidden Forest.


End file.
